


i don't want to lose you now

by feudal_lord (somerdaye)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somerdaye/pseuds/feudal_lord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s called individuality. (and it hurts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't want to lose you now

i.

“you aren’t letting your roots grow in?” kaoru asks, like it’s a casual question. hikaru knows better.

he pauses in his application of the dye to shoot kaoru a grin, pretending he’s as unconcerned about it as his brother. he says, “nah, it’s just hair”, like he means it.

kaoru is quiet.

“i look better with black, anyway,” hikaru says, examining himself in the bathroom mirror. this is an outright lie. it isn’t that he looks better, or worse, he just looks _different_ and that’s fine. that’s the point. if they can’t show their individuality on something as simple as hair colour, then they’re fucked on the whole idea of being separate people.

it’s hard enough as it is without kaoru protesting and kaoru knows that. so he doesn’t wish aloud that hikaru would go back to _their_ colour. he doesn’t say it’s a shame, because it shouldn’t be.

with a half-sigh, kaoru rests his forehead on the back of hikaru’s neck and says, “it does suit you, doesn’t it?”

ii.

it’s their mother who points it out. of course it is, nobody else in their life, aside from themselves, has such a keen eye for things like this. they’re in her studio, trying to pick suits for their lord’s latest whim, when she drops the bomb.

“hikaru, you should wear the red tie,” she says, most of her attention on the design in front of her.

the twins exchange a look.

“red isn’t our colour,” kaoru says. she ought to know that. she’s the one who told them so many times that red -- bright, loud, saturated red -- wasn’t for hitachiins.

“well, no, it isn’t _your_ colour,” their mother agrees, “nor mine. but hikaru’s new hair will accent it properly.”

this is a blow. they don’t know how to have different colours; they’re so used to being able to tell what looks good on them by just looking at the other. hikaru looks shaken, but he picks up the tie in question and holds it up for kaoru’s scrutiny. the worst thing is, it really does look good. kaoru smiles and nods, turning away so his mother doesn’t think he’s losing his nerve.

it isn’t a big deal, he tells himself. the voice in his head that sounds so much like hikaru agrees, and they push the panic down together.

iii.

“there are only three empty apartments in haru-chan’s building,” honey announces, bounding into the club. haruhi and tamaki are, predictably, absent.

kyouya pauses in his typing, but only for a moment. he asks, “is that going to be a problem?”

the edge in his voice makes it clear that if it is a problem, somebody else is going to have to fix it. kaoru can see through him -- knows that he’s scared. what if this crazy plan falls to pieces? the host club will really and truly be over. though he’ll never admit it, kyouya cherishes the bond they all have.

in any case, honey shakes his head.

“it shouldn’t be! takashi and i will share, and kao-chan --”

“will stay with you, kyouya-senpai,” hikaru interrupts, giving kaoru a wide-eyed stare from across the room. he knows the look, knows why hikaru is suggesting this, but it still twinges a bit.

“yeah,” kaoru says, slowly. “if that’s alright with you, senpai.”

kyouya raises his eyebrows the slightest bit without looking at either of them. normally they would jump at the chance to be together, but the thing is... they only just got separate rooms. kaoru is still accustomed to his brother’s snoring, and hikaru doesn’t know what to do with an empty bed in the mornings. this was the biggest step they’d made in becoming less dependent on each other, and they don’t want it to go to waste for something like this. this is preventable.

“that’s fine with me,” says kyouya. he sounds indifferent, but he’s smart. he understands why they’re asking.

hikaru is too far away for kaoru to cling to, so he settles for holding his brother’s gaze until kyouya calls them to order.

iv.

kaoru wakes up to a frantic banging on his front door at what his alarm clock says is fuck o’clock in the morning. he takes a moment to thank his lucky stars that kyouya is still sleeping soundly in the other room and rushes to answer it.

his brother is standing on his threshold, breathing erratically.

“hikaru,” kaoru sighs in relief, sagging against the doorframe. “you could’ve woken senpai. i’m not ready to be an only child.”

“kaoru,” hikaru says. his voice cracks on kaoru’s name, and his eyes are watery, and kaoru is ashamed for not noticing before that his twin looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown.

he steps into hikaru’s personal space -- and he hates that he’s started to think of it like that, as though there’s an invisible wall between them that was never there before -- and cups hikaru’s jaw with both his hands. he turns hikaru’s face this way and that. he doubts whatever’s making him upset will be visible, but he has to check.

“what’s wrong?” kaoru demands, not bothering to keep his voice down anymore.

hikaru doesn’t answer him; he pulls the hem of his shirt up a little bit, and it takes kaoru a moment to see what the issue is. when he does, he almost falls over.

there are black swirls above hikaru’s hipbone, undulating in a manner their mother would be proud of. kaoru thinks it’s a nice design. he doesn’t -- he doesn’t understand why hikaru looks like he’s going to cry.

well. yes, he does, but he doesn’t want to understand.

“oh,” he says. hesitantly, he traces the ink with his fingers, hoping to smudge it. except, of course, this isn’t marker.

“i’m,” hikaru starts, but kaoru doesn’t want to hear the apology. he shushes hikaru and tugs him in for a hug. he starts to cry, and then hikaru starts to cry, and kaoru wonders if this is what individuality is for everyone else, if it _hurts_ this much.

v.

“she looks beautiful,” hikaru says, and kaoru hums his agreement.

they’re sitting against the wall, watching their friends and family and business partners converge on the dance floor. kaoru hands the large bottle of champagne they’re sharing over a small grin.

“congratulations,” says kaoru.

he lets his thumb brush over the brand-new ring on hikaru’s finger, and hikaru looks at it in surprise, like he’d forgotten it was there.

kaoru swallows the panic he’s feeling, because he’s used to it by now. it’s pointless, really. the wedding is over and done with, and hikaru will be moving in with his bride within the week. he’s known that for months. years, if you include his musings before she was even in the picture.

like he knows what kaoru’s thinking -- and he does, but they don’t advertise that anymore -- hikaru rests the side of his head on kaoru’s shoulder and heaves a sigh that sounds like “thanks.”

&.

(“nobody can tell who’s who,” hikaru whispers across the space between their pillows.

kaoru snuggles closer. hikaru is glad for it -- he was too far away before. when kaoru entangles their fingers, he feels better. “except us,” they say together.

“dad says people would be better at the game if we weren’t so alike.” hikaru injects as much disbelief into his tone as possible, and kaoru nods forcefully. they’re not making the game hard on _purpose_ , people are just idiots.

“why shouldn’t we be alike?” kaoru asks. he struggles for a moment on how to phrase his thoughts. he doesn’t yet know as many words as the adults around him, and it frustrates him in a way that hikaru doesn’t completely understand. “i’m happy being like you.”

“i’m happy being like _you_ ,” hikaru replies. and that’s the end of that.)

**Author's Note:**

> a big big BIG thank you to my lovely symone, who hasn't beta'd one of my ouran fics in years and still agreed to look over this one. what an absolute sweetheart!
> 
> i bet at this point kelly wishes she could block me from her _life_.


End file.
